The Snow Covered Streets
by Green6Eyed7Lady
Summary: What happens when your world is tumbled and you lost the love of your life and destroy most of your work? Where do you go from there? Do you go back and try to change what you have gotten rid of? Move on? Erik has changed after Christine left him...
1. Chapter 1

Through the snow covered streets that no one dared to venture out, lest something wicked would happen to them. A man dressed in black sauntered through, making not one sound. He looked around him, windows were shut, doors locked, no lights shown through the crack, it seemed to be a deserted town at night, but during the day it was a bustling city. The man was reaching his destination the Opera House in Paris. His haven, his paradise, and more importantly, his prison, that is what the lower levels of the Opera House were to him. When the love of his life left him and his hastily exit where he destroyed his place and left his mask, he snuck down each night to do some repairs and to check on what was going on inside the Opera House.

Upon entering the secret door at the West side of the Opera House, he moves silently down the lower levels to see what more he has to do to clean up and what he has to fix. The mirrors were fixed, the things that were smashed were now gone, moved to a deserted part of the various rooms and levels of the lower rooms. His coffin was gone, and in return he made a bed. He was waiting for someone to see if they remember him, and who will take the place of Christine.


	2. Stranger

Behind his mask he smiled as he sat at his desk pouring over new sheets of music. He was not who he was with Christine. He knew that she loved him for his voice, not because of what he was. He had tricked her with the sound of his voice, but once she saw his face, she was torn between the two. The last of his old music sheets were bound in a notebook and placed in a secret storage area of where only he knew.

A few months had gone by, his home as been steadily changing, better furnishings, a few more rugs, and more candles. Alas no music was heard from the depths of his rooms. It was as if he were waiting for another maiden, one who would love him for his grotesque features and his beautiful voice.

One miserable snowy night, where he dare not undertake, he found news of a new female who would take the place of Christine.

He felt the longing to hear her sing. "When she has to perform I will be waiting for her." He murmured to the darkness surrounding him. He went on a little adventure which led him to go upstairs and try to get a glimpse of what had happened to his House. Only a few things had changed, but what changed the most were the singers. The ones that started this Opera are gone, replaced by new ones.

A young woman looks to be around twenty-six or so, with long cascading coppery blonde hair, pale features, and dark colored eyes wearing a simple gown was walking down the stairs, talking to another dancer. He caught a bit of their conversation.

"…I heard that the Ghost that lived down in the bottom is gone. No one is brave enough to venture down there. I have a feeling he is still alive…somewhere." He smiled in his hiding spot, noticing that she had a slight accent to her voice.

"But Arabella, you don't believe those stories do you?" He watched her more closely. "Darling Lilly, I'm not frightened of a little story, besides you can see the looks of the managers each day, they are still terrified of that man. Besides Christine and all the others are gone, so what does that tell you?" Instead of waiting for a response, Arabella walked off to her rooms, which by chance were also the rooms Christine lived in.


	3. A Meeting

Song

As the young woman went back to her rooms, he could hear her humming in her room, soon he heard her voice singing a lullaby and he smiled. He wondered what she was up to but he didn't want to startle her with his presence, so he went back down to his lair and began to write her a note. His handwriting had improved greatly through his months of toil.

Bonjour Ma Chérie,

I write this note to you in order to explain a series of expectations in order for your performances to get better and your voice to soar higher than anyone has ever heard. If you would like, I could come and help you practice for your shows. I expect nothing in return. Please not a word about these letters. Where you find this letter, place your response on your table, across from the large floor length mirror. I look forward to your response. S'il vous-plait.

O. G.

He sealed the letter with wax and a seal from his ring that he leaves for that purpose. It was a skull's head, and silently goes to the girl's room. He sees that no one is there, and goes through the mirror and lays the note on her desk. He smiles, and vanishes back through the mirror. All he had to do now was to wait for her reply. Hidden in the darkness, he waits for his new beauty to come back to her chilly rooms. Once he sees that she was reading the letter, he goes back to his place. He sat at his bench and contemplated what he should do next. Playing a small tune, he looked at the clock, and smiled evilly. He had some business to take care with, to start, terrorizing the management, seeing how since he "left" months after he released Christine and Raoul.

Traveling back upstairs, he sets his sights on the management, hearing faint murmurings in the room a few feet away. He stays hidden in the shadows, glad night is fast approaching. Creeping slowly towards the door, he heard snippets of their conversation.

"…The Phantom is gone, he is dead, and his place was destroyed by our mob these few months ago…"

"…Yes, but has anyone been down there to check if he is really dead…" There was a sigh. "No, one on has dared go down, not since Christine and Raoul have left. No one has spoken to them."

"We have to find a way to protect Lilly and Arabella. If he's alive he's bound to capture them both and use him for his greedy ways."

He waited a few more moments interested in what they were talking about, before he would make his move.

The Phantom was a changed man ever since his fateful night, after he left the Opera House in the first month. He was roaming the streets, stealing money, stealing food, trying to survive, when a man from his past entered into his life. No, it wasn't the Persian, but someone from his days as a young boy in the circus. He took pity on the man and brought him into his home, but something was different about him from so long ago. A kind of grace was about the man, and soon he brought that power to Erik. He shook his head to get rid of that memory. He was thirsty and his moment to shine with the managers was about to start.

"Andre, Firmin, you dare talk about me as if I were dead?" He gave a maniacal laugh, as he entered through the door that they thought was locked. "You may think I am dead, but you have no idea what you are in for." He smiled, he did not smell of death as he did with Christine, his flesh was still cold, but warmed with the blood of others; he wasn't so thin, after being turned, his body changed, but his face was still a terrifying sight.

He watched the managers as they both pulled out a pistol, their hands shaking, he could smell their fear. "Now managers, you will have to start following my instructions." He narrowed his eyes, "If you don't, then there will be harsher consequences than those that surrounded Christine." He had a faint smile on his lips as he sauntered towards both managers.

"Now, if I need you, I will place letters with the young girl that took over Madame Giry's place as the Box Office Attendant and who is known is the Ballet Teacher. She will come here and place the letters underneath your door. No one is allowed in Box Five, or they will be killed by me." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink into their heads. "You will use all the music that I compose, and please find better musicians. Hold auditions for the parts that we need, I will be watching in the shadows and giving out hints, unless you want me to do them?"

He smiled, "Let's do that, tell me when you are going to hold auditions and I will make sure I get what I want and you don't have to worry about it. Don't worry, they won't see me, they will just hear my voice…" He turned to leave, and whispered in their minds.

_The girl to give your notes to is named Lilly, she is also Arabella's friend here in the Opera House, treat her well._ He sent the thought into their minds, chuckling as he vanished to Arabella's rooms wondering if they heard his whisper through the room or if it was in their minds. He was happy with what he accomplished.

He found her scent lingering throughout the room, he found that she was better suited for this room than Christine was; he was surprised that for how much he loved Christine and wanted her for himself as his living bride, he liked Arabella all the more. "Strange." He whispered to himself. He noticed a letter on her table addressed to him. He quickly snatched it up, and in a blink of an eye was back into his lair, sitting at his organ tearing open her letter. It was in scrawling handwriting.

Dear Opera Ghost,

I had a feeling that you wouldn't have died after Christine left you, in fact I believe that this would have made you a lot stronger. When can we start lessons? Oh and you have my promise of not telling anyone about our meetings. Could you come tonight? Say around ten o'clock. We have a new opera and I don't think my voice is cut out for the high range.

Arabella.

The man smiled, and began to reply back. His fun of tormenting the managers would last for a very long time. Oh no, he wasn't able to die normally, nor would he. He knew he had to go out and feed soon, but first, he wanted to compose this letter.

My Dearest Arabella,

What a pleasure to hear you respond so quickly to my message. That time would be perfect. Please, make sure no one knows what you are up to and I will make your dreams come true. Go down and light a candle, if anyone asks, say you are praying for your parents. You will receive another note with more instructions.


	4. A Daring Visit

**Daring Visit**

Walking the lonely night of Paris, he was looking for a simple meal. The streets seemed to be empty but occasionally he would hear humans moving in their homes, and he was feeling restless. He walked down the nearest alleyway, his body cloaked in darkness, silent and graceful, a predator.

Hearing a shuffling noise and a loud thump as something falls over, he quickly moves toward the sound. For a few moments, he watches and old woman, struggle to find something to eat. He could smell her stench and he felt bad. There was nothing he could, and the hunger gnawed at him to quench it. "Hello Madame." His voice was like velvet, coaxing the woman out of what she was doing, trapping her with the power of his voice. He watched the woman look up and try to figure out the sound, he wanted to chuckle but refrained. "Come here, my dear." He watched as he hesitantly came towards him, drawn by his voice. He could smell the fear rolling off of her in waves, reading her mind as she crept closer.

"Pray, tell me your name." He watched her swallow, "My name is Gwendoline Fleur." He smiled gently. "Such a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman, what are you doing out on a night like this?" He watched her blush as he crept closer towards her, the intoxicating scent of her blood drawing him in, like a bug to light. "It is my time to search for food for my family. We wait until everyone has left the Opera House for the night and search for something left behind." She paused a moment seemingly to collect her thoughts. "It's a harsh life…" She drifted off, tears form and in her eyes, "I must go back Monsieur." As she turned away, he grabbed her wrist pulling her back to face him, "Stay a moment longer, I wish to show you something." She nodded and motioned to one of her children to continue what she left off and began to follow him, filled with curiosity. Luckily she didn't say a word; she shuffled behind him, lost in thought. He didn't read her mind- having a feeling that he might lead her to a better place to find food. In a way Erik was, but first he needed her blood. After taking a bit from her, that left her unconscious for an hour or so, he ended up traveling back to his home.

He felt better since he had her blood to warm him up, and to quench the ever lingering blood lust for more blood. He was always careful when he would take a victim. He took a little more blood from her than he would any other person. He couldn't help it; he had to do it like that once in awhile. As he made his way down his to his lair, he wondered what time it was, and silently crept up to the main ground and began to search for a clock. It was only nine at night. One hour to kill before he had to meet Arabella for her first lesson. He decided to do a little wandering, to see what changes were brought to his Opera House. He was glad that all the pesky little men like Joseph Boquet were gone and not trying to find out who he is. It seemed they hired a young man to fill in the work, he seemed to be a weakling, and was spooked at every little shape in the shadows.

Erik silently travelled to Arabella's room noticing that she was working on a song. He slipped by her, and entered the mirror, waiting to see if she would sing some of it. "Oh my, why can't I figure out how to write a song? This is so much harder than I thought." Frustrated Arabella got up and began to pace, muttering. Erik felt a need to help her.

"_My child, what is the matter?" _ Arabella stopped in her tracks trying to find the voice speaking to her. Erik silently chuckled as this was the first time she heard his voice. Noticing how enraptured she was with the sound of it. After being changed, his voice was all the more hypnotic and potent. He watched behind the mirror as she blushed and looked down, acting little like a little girl rather than a beautiful mature young girl. "I'm trying to write a song for a friend of mine. She wants to play it on her violin, but its hard coming up with notes that pleases the ear." He chuckled, this time out loud. "_Would you like some help?" _ "I would love the help!"


End file.
